


untitled vampire AU

by growlery



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really loved the idea for this, it even had a proper kind of plot and everything, but I didn't like any of the scenes I wrote after this so I sort of just gave up. I still like the start, though, so here it is.</p></blockquote>





	untitled vampire AU

The bell tinkles ten minutes into Elena’s shift and she looks up to see a dark-haired woman, probably around her age when she was turned, walk into the clinic. Elena doesn’t think she’s been in before; she sees a lot of people, yeah, but Elena thinks she’d remember a face like that. 

“Can I help you?” Elena asks with a warm smile. 

The woman nods politely at her. “I’d like to get registered, please,” she says, and that confirms Elena’s suspicions that the woman’s new here, hasn’t been in Camelot since the new laws passed. 

“Sure,” Elena says, wheeling the chair around so she’s facing the computer. “Do you have your ID with you?”

The woman slides it across the desk towards her, and Elena flips it open. Mithian Nemeth, O negative, born 13th March 1779, died 2nd April 1793. Elena slants a look at her, can’t help it, but Mithian is carefully studying the posters on the wall about safe transfers and free blood tests. 

“Done,” Elena says, when she’s entered Mithian into the database. “I’m assuming you don’t want to be sent information or have your details passed on to any third parties?” That makes Mithian smile, a tiny little tease of a thing, and Elena forcibly drags her gaze away from Mithian’s mouth. “Right then. I just need details of someone we can contact in case of an emergency, or if you don’t turn up for an appointment.”

Mithian ducks her head. “Arthur Pendragon,” she says, and Elena’s head snaps up in shock. 

“You know Arthur?” she says, wavering between wary and impressed. 

Mithian nods, but doesn’t give any more details. “I’m assuming you won’t need his contact information?”

Elena just snorts. “You’re all set,” she says, wheeling back round to face Mithian. “Do you have any preferences, any days which won’t work for you?”

Mithian shakes her head. “Any day would be fine. Although, now would be... desirable.” Mithian shifts, and Elena looks at her, _really_ looks at her, sees the slight pallor of Mithian’s cheeks and the shine of Mithian’s pupils. She has no idea how she missed it before. She’s supposed to be better than that. “I had a long journey and didn’t prepare sufficiently.”

Elena bites her lip. Merlin’s on med duty right now, but he hasn’t come in yet. Elena’s expecting him any minute, knows Merlin has a tendency to run a little late, and the emergency stash is really only supposed to be used in _emergencies_ , but Mithian looks desperate. Screw protocol, just this once; Isolde would understand. 

“I can get you a blood pack,” Elena says softly, and Mithian can’t hide the sudden gratitude in her eyes either. “Wait here.”

Elena ducks into the back and opens the fridge, rifling through the blood packs for an O negative. Mithian’s waiting patiently when Elena walks back out with it, and she breaks out into this helpless, grateful smile which freezes Elena to the spot for just a second. 

And then she shakes her head firmly, tells herself she has dealt with far too many vampires to be taken in by a simple smile, and hands Mithian the blood pack. 

“There’s a bathroom through that door there-” Elena indicates it with a wave. “-if you want privacy, but you can just tear into it right here if you want, I don’t mind.”

“I, uh.” Mithian looks embarrassed, but also like she might actually expire if she doesn’t get blood in her system right this second, and it doesn’t take long before base need wins out over decorum. She does swivel so that her back is to Elena but Elena can still hear the familiar rip of plastic, followed swiftly by a slow slurp and a choked-off moan.

There’s a tiny smear of blood at the corner of Mithian’s lips when she turns back around, and Elena kind of wants to lick it off, lick into Mithian’s mouth and-

And _nothing_ , nothing at all, because just thinking about this is a supremely terrible idea. Elena forces herself to smile at Mithian. “I’ll schedule you in for this time next week,” she says, “if that’s okay?”

Mithian nods, says, “Thank you so much, Elena,” and Elena startles for half a second before she remembers that oh, yeah, it’s written on her shirt. 

“No problem. Have a nice night,” Elena says awkwardly, and Mithian nods at her once before turning and striding out of the clinic. Elena determinedly doesn’t watch her leave. 

#

Elena started working at the clinic her first year of uni, because she was desperate for a job and some kind of income and Gwaine suggested it as a joke. 

“I mean,” he said, grinning as he handed her the job application, “it’s not like you haven’t got experience,” but instead of rolling her eyes and laughing like he probably expected, she hmmed thoughtfully and said, “Y’know, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Why do you want this job, Elena?” Isolde asked, when she went to the clinic to hand in her application. “We don’t get a lot of applicants, as you might imagine.”

Elena shrugged. “My best friend’s a vampire,” she explained, in lieu of a banal – but not untrue – speech about how she just wants to _help_ people. “I’ve been dealing with him since we were tiny. I need a job, and I figured I should try something I’m vaguely good at.”

Isolde cocked her head. “You’re Gwaine’s Elena,” she said, after a moment, and Elena couldn’t help but laugh. “He talks about you a lot.”

That... really didn’t surprise Elena. It’s nigh impossible to get Gwaine to shut up; the only time Elena’s ever seen him silent is when he’s drinking, and that’s mainly because his mouth is otherwise occupied. 

“Should I be worried?” Elena asked, only half serious. 

Isolde grinned. “On the contrary,” she said, “you have prior experience _and_ a superb character reference. When can you start?”

“Right now, if you want me,” Elena said, unable stop herself beaming. 

That was more than four years ago, now, and Elena hasn’t looked back since.

**Author's Note:**

> I really loved the idea for this, it even had a proper kind of plot and everything, but I didn't like any of the scenes I wrote after this so I sort of just gave up. I still like the start, though, so here it is.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Blood and Coffee (The Post-it Notes Collection)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/715117) by [qwerty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwerty/pseuds/qwerty)




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